Amber Eyes
by RavenWolf3
Summary: AU. Liz is a nurse, and married to an abusive husband named Mark. But things start changing when she begins dreaming of a mysterious man with amber eyes who might just be the one to set her free.


Title: Amber Eyes

Author: RavenWolf

Rating: R, maybe later NC-17

Pairing: All CC couples, but mainly M/L

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine except Mark.

Summary: AU. Liz is a nurse, and married to an abusive husband named Mark. But things start changing when she begins dreaming of a mysterious man with amber eyes who might just be the one to set her free.

A/N: This may contain material offensive to some people. This includes rape, abuse, violence, and just general badness. This is your warning. If you flame me, I will have to point to this A/N and say, 'I warned you!'. So there.

A/N 2: *~* and then _italics_ is a flashback.

"Liz, oh honey, what happened to you?" Paulette said as Liz picked up her stack of patients for the day. Self-consciously, she touched a hand to her messily concealed black eye, and split lip. Mark had given them to her the night before, but she'd never tell Paulette that.

"Oh. I fell. Hit my eye on the doorknob. You know how clumsy I can be." Paulette did know, because there must have been fifty other days that had started out just like this one. Though not willing to voice her opinion, Paulette was positive that Liz was having problems of the domestic kind.

She gave Liz a once over, and then headed off to the lounge for some coffee. "Tell David I said hi." And a few other things, she thought to herself as she left the room.

Liz stiffened. She hadn't thought that Paulette had such strong suspicions. She was going to have to do something about that. Throw her off somehow. Maybe invite her over to dinner, so she could see what a perfect couple she and Mark were. Both of them were very good actors.

She wrapped her stethoscope around her neck and headed to check on patient number 233. Fire victim, third degree burns on sixty-five percent of the body. Recovering well, with no complications so far. Someone she could help. 

"How are we today?" she asked her docile patient. He looked up with eyes full of muted pain. Taking pity on him, Liz administered his shot of pain medication.

"Thank you," he rasped out. "Can I have something to..." His voice barely a whisper, he pointed at his throat. Liz got the message and went to get him some ice chips.

When she came back, he was already asleep. She left the chips in a cup by his bed, and moved on to the next patient.

Liz liked being a nurse. It paid well enough, and she got to help people. Not in the major, life-saving way like the doctors did, but she got to make their lives a little bit more comfortable in their time of need. And it was all worth it to see the gratitude in their eyes.

Liz headed to the coffee room for her break. And froze. Dr. Max Evans was in there. She thought about leaving before he could see her, but it was too late. 

"Hey, Liz." She gave him a weak smile. It wasn't that she didn't like him. She did. He was a wonderful doctor, and had a better bedside manner than most. He had always been kind to her. A little too kind, maybe. And that was her problem. Mark didn't like Max. He thought he had a crush on Liz. And in his view, that was intolerable.

Liz, of course, thought he was entirely wrong. How could he have a crush on her? He was so much..._better_ than her. Mark had told her many times--she wasn't worth the attention.

"Hey, Max." She moved toward the coffee machine, trying to hide her face from him without looking too conspicuous. But in vain.

"What happened to you, Liz?" His honey-sweet voice was filled with concern. He made as if to touch her face, and then dropped his hand to his side. "Your face is..."  


"Yeah, I know," she muttered, leaning forward so that her hair fell in a curtain across her face. "It's nothing. I just fell, is all."

"Oh. What about your arm?" Liz looked down at the finger-shaped bruises on her arm, revealed by her nurse's uniform. She blushed hard. "Nothing." She said again. "Listen, I gotta go. It was nice talking to you."

She swept out of the coffee room, blind to the look of intense hurt on Max's face.

***

Mark was drunk again. Not enough to make Liz cower in fear, but enough to make her cautious. He was slouched over at the counter, nursing a bottle of beer in the kitchen.

But there was no avoiding him on her way to their bedroom. "Hey, honey," he slurred. "Make us a lot of money today?" Liz screwed her eyes shut just for a moment, allowing herself just the tiniest bit of self-pity.

"Sure, Mark. Did you make dinner?" Of course she knew he hadn't. But she had to ask anyway, because that's what good wives did. And she tried her best to be a good wife, even though Maria had told her time and time again that he wasn't worth it. 

He wasn't even listening. Drunkenly, he tilted his head back and emptied the bottle's contents into his mouth. Liz closed her eyes, and then set her purse down on a chair. She touched her hand to her temple briefly. She had a pounding headache. Work had been tough. She'd lost a patient today. It wasn't unusual for an E.R. nurse, but she'd liked the man. And she'd been there when it happened. Not like Mark had asked, though.

And now it looked like she had to make them both dinner. She knew that if Mark didn't eat something, he'd be up all night, throwing up. And then he'd take it out on her, which she most certainly didn't want. Not just for the obvious reasons, but people at work were starting to get suspicious. She'd have to discuss it with him when he was more sober.

But for now, she took out a saucepan and started heating up some oil to make tortillas. David looked at her and then started whining about how much he hated it when she cooked, and why couldn't they afford a professional chef? Sick of it, Liz dumped the oil, turned off the heat, and set the saucepan down with a satisfying clang.

"I'm going for a walk. If you want dinner, call for pizza." She grabbed her purse and left before he could stop her, even though she knew there would be hell to pay when she finally got back.

The cool night air was refreshing, if not clean. New York was still alive, even at this late hour. That was something she loved about this city. It never slept.

She left their apartment building, strolling to the cafe on the corner. She was friends with the owner, Maria, and often times she'd come in on nights like tonight just to chat and eat. Maria was the only one who knew the extent of her domestic problems.

The cafe was mostly empty, but a welcome respite from her inner turmoil. Here she was safe. Here, she didn't have to watch her back for fear of it being stabbed. Here, she would be welcomed with open arms.

Liz sat down at her usual table with a sigh. It didn't matter if it took a long time to be served. She was safe here. That was what mattered.

"Hey, babe. What brings you here so late?" The blonde sat down across from her.

Liz was able to call up a genuine smile for her best friend. "The usual."

Maria's normally cheerful face turned grave. "Oh. Liz..." Liz held up her hand.

"I know, I know I should leave him. I know I should call the police. I just don't want to hear it tonight, okay Maria?"

Maria shut her mouth with a sharp clack of her teeth. She nodded curtly. "Alright. I'm sorry. I know you don't like to talk about it."

"What can I get for you two lovely ladies?" Julian gave them a smarmy smile, flashing his gold tooth. Maria laughed. Even Liz conjured up a small giggle.

"Cheeseburger. Everything on it. Large fries, and a medium diet coke." Maria nodded at her.

"Same for me. And be quick about it!" Julian grinned at them, and then headed off to the kitchen. This late, they were the only people in the cafe.

Liz stared at the table, where she was steadily and methodically shredding her napkin. Maria noticed her pale face and distracted look. She reached across the table and put her hand on Liz's shoulder, startling her. "Rough day?"

Liz could feel herself shattering as the words were spoken. "You have no idea," she said, tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes.

"Oh, sweetie. Do you wanna stay with me tonight?" Liz could only nod her head as she rubbed the tears angrily from her eyes.

"If it's not too much trouble," she said meekly. Maria smiled and nodded.

"Never. You know I love to have you spend the night. It'll be like old times. You know, pillow fights, movies, popcorn, conking out before the real fun begins..." Liz managed a watery smile.

"Yeah," she said. It wasn't necessary for her to go back to get her things; after the first 'incident', she'd started leaving an overnight bag at Maria's.

*~*

__

Liz's heart fluttered in her chest, so hard that she had to press her hand to her breast as if to hold it still. She crushed herself farther back into the closet, bracing her feet firmly against the door. 

Her whole body hunched in on itself as she heard him calling her name. Screaming for her to come out or else he'd find her and break every bone in her body. She bit her tongue viciously to keep from whimpering. The action caused a trickle of blood to flow straight down her chin and drip onto her shirt.

Tears streamed down her face and she brought her hand to her face. She was trembling. She pressed farther back into the closet. After the first blow, she'd forgotten everything. She'd lost everything but the fight or flight reflex, which led her here, to this closet, trembling and afraid. But now she remembered. She remembered their wedding vows, she remembered his tenderness, his kindness.

A soft whimper escaped her, and she froze, every muscle so tense it might snap. She couldn't hear any sounds. He'd either fallen into bed in a drunken stupor, or was standing...right...outside....

Liz wanted to scream with her fear. Anything to escape. There had to be a way. Some way out, some way to avoid the pain that was coming. The silence prevailed.

She crawled on her hands and her knees and cracked the door open. Slowly. Centimeter by centimeter, until the crack was wide enough for her to see through. 

She got a direct view of the living room recliner, where Mark was sprawled with his tongue hanging out. A soft snore came from him. She quivered with disgust. She used to think that habit was endearing...

But that was a long time ago. Before things got cold. Different. She supposed she should have known this was coming. He'd been acting so callously to her in the past few months. Treating her like she was alternately a slave, a sex toy, or an object. She'd assumed he was just going through a phase, but this...

Hands still shaking, it took her five tries to lock the front door on her way out.


End file.
